Professor Cassidy's Night School for Low Achievers
by iluvwitch
Summary: Isabella's life is going nowhere when she comes across a flyer for a peculiar sounding night school. With nothing to lose she indulges her curiosity and finds her life takes quite a turn as she plunges into a whole other world. Perhaps Hogwarts wasn't her only chance at learning magic after all.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Take a Number

Isabella Hartwell glanced at her watch as she cleared the last of the coffee cups from the tables and brought them to the kitchen to be washed. She had been working in this coffee shop full time for the last 6 months after dropping out of school to her parents' horror and generally just making a mess of her life.

The coffee shop barely paid the minimum wage so of course Isabella still lived at home, spending her money on pointless frivolities like the latest makeup fad and countless takeaway pizzas. In short, life was not going too well for Isabella.

Once she'd finished her shift she wandered down to the bus stop, not worried about rushing home as the warm summer evening filled the high street with a beautiful orange glow and Isabella wished she had somebody to share the good weather with.

Reaching the bus stop she was surprised to see that it was completely empty which was quite unusual at this peak time. Shaking her head a little, she went to check the bus schedule, pausing in front of it to check her watch once again and then did a double take as she realised something else was not quite right today.

Where she was sure she had looked at the bus timetable just a moment ago, there was now a bright orange flyer glaring back at her.

Are you on the right path?  
Feel like you haven't found your purpose?

ATTEND PROFESSOR CASSIDY'S NIGHT SCHOOL  
for low achievers

THIS THURSDAY 8:00PM

Isabella was completely bewildered as she read this, her brow furrowed in confusion and suspicion at the sudden appearance of this strange invitation.

Yet despite this she felt somehow compelled to take one of the phone numbers that fluttered enticingly at the bottom of the paper.

And inevitably she did.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Emerald Green Ink

Isabella stared at the emerald green peeling paint that covered most of the exterior of the strange crooked old bookshop. She didn't know the area too well but was sure she'd never come across this before and as she stood there flabbergasted at the seemingly ancient structure, she wondered how she could have ever missed such a place.

She was jolted into action as a businessman bumped into her quite violently as he rushed home, not expecting to see this strange girl to be stood still on the busy street.

"Ouch" Isabella muttered grumpily to herself as she cautiously stepped towards the shop, rubbing her sore shoulder as she went and feeling quite uneasy with nerves.

Entering the place, the bell that hung above the door chimed in a shrill, joyous tone and scuttling from some dark corner came the shop's owner, a small and slight and bright eyed man.

"Can I help you miss?" he asked, looking her up and down questioningly, "I'm afraid we are closing soon".

"Um .. I'm here for the night school. I called the phone number and they gave me this address."

Thinking about it now Isabella couldn't quite believe she had followed the instructions of the strange unnamed voice that had answered the phone.

"Ahhh!" the man looked unsatisfied with this answer and Isabella suspected he was disappointed at the loss of a customer. "Follow me" he continued, looking over each shoulder cautiously before beckoning her to come further into the dark maze that was his bookshop.

The smell of damp was becoming quite overpowering when the pair finally stopped in an aisle so far from the exit that Isabella was sure she couldn't find her way out if she tried.

She watched silently as the man frowned at the bookshelf, his eyes darting back and forth as he scanned the names of the books, eager to find the one that he needed.

"Oh" he exclaimed looking a bit sheepish as he retrieved one that'd been directly in front of him and almost instantly Isabella felt the floor start to shake and listened as the bookshelf seemed to make the most peculiar noises.

"Ha! Is it a secret door or something" she joked attempting to fill the awkward lack of conversation between the two of them.

However, the man only seemed to become grumpier as he rolled his eyes before replying "Well what else would it be".

And to her astonishment Isabella watched as the bookshelf slowly swung back to reveal a stone staircase down to what she could only assume was the basement.

"Well are you going or not?" the shop owner snapped impatiently at Isabella who had been staring in awe of what had just occurred.

"Oh, yes thank you" she mumbled shyly before starting to walk down the mysterious staircase and hearing the door creak shut behind her as the man went back to his business.

The young woman was not usually so bold but today was different. It was like the incident at the bus stop all over again. Something was reeling her in, drawing her closer and closer until she was just a breath away as she reached the bottom of the stairs and tried to peek through the crack where the ancient door was slightly ajar.

"I hope you haven't come all this way just to stand outside my door Miss Hartwell" a loud, teasing voice sounded from the room and caused Isabella to nearly jump out of her skin.

Tentatively pushing open the solid oak door, she was greeted by warm, flickered candles that lit every corner of the unexpectedly large room, which had every wall covered in shelves full of all sorts of books, jars, dried herbs and deeply coloured liquids.

In the centre of all these oddities was a tall, rather intimidating figure dressed head to toe in pale yellow raw silk, including what had to be the most spectacular cape Isabella had ever seen.

"Professor Cassidy" the woman introduced herself and held out her hand to shake whilst standing resolutely behind her desk, forcing Isabella to rush forward to accept the firm handshake.

"Please take a seat" she indicated to a plush red chair that had suddenly appeared, though Isabella hardly had time to process this, so overwhelmed was she by her surroundings.

Both women took a seat, the younger one open mouthed as she gazed around the room before settling back on the extraordinary figure that was Professor Cassidy.

Professor Cassidy by this time seemed quite uninterested in Isabella, instead fervently reading some absurdly large book she had open on her desk.

She could have only been about 55, her dark brown skin untarnished by age apart from the occasional wrinkle and her hair not showing one fleck of grey. Isabella would have guessed she was much younger if it were not for her hands which bore the marks of an older lady.

"It will happen to you too one day" Professor Cassidy looked up and smiled at Isabella, seemingly reading the girls mind.

"Do you remember receiving a letter Isabella? You would have been 11" the older woman changed the subject as she concentrated her attention back to Isabella.

Taken aback by the obscure question, Isabella simply stared at Professor Cassidy unable to answer.

"I know it was a while ago but I thought you'd remember your Hogwarts letter. I mean I certainly did".

And there it was. The gears were starting to turn in Isabella's mind as she was confronted with images of green ink on thick white parchment.

"Oh my…." the girl murmured, practically speechless at the memories that were flooding her mind.

"Of course it's quite common for people to forget it entirely when you're so brainwashed by these silly muggles. Shame your parents couldn't afford the fees really. I think they really overlooked something in not giving you a scholarship. Of course you shouldn't get big-headed over that comment" Ms Cassidy stopped briefly in the middle of her monologue to eye Isabella doubtfully.

"You're no Albus Dumbledore that's for sure, but with a little hard work there's potential for a good witch there I'm sure" she finished, smiling at the young woman opposite, clearly waiting for some sort of response.


End file.
